Page 182 of Accidental Husband
"You telling me this isn't about sex?"
"No…" Okay, that isn't true. Not exactly. "It's complicated."
"I'm sorry I failed you the first time. I really am. But I'm not that stupid kid anymore. I'm stupid, yeah. But I'm better at this."
"What if I'm not?"
"You're telling me, aren't you?" he asks.
"Barely."
"You are." He turns my arm over. Traces the scars on my wrist with his thumb. "I can't promise perfection. I can't promise I'll be cool. Fuck, when things hurt you I see red. I can't think. I want to destroy whatever it is that's causing you pain."
"But I'm… it's not like that."
"I know. And I'm gonna try to be better. But I'm gonna fuck it up sometimes."
"Me too."
"You have to stop."
"I know."
"No, baby. I'm not Jackson." He traces the design from my wrist to the crook of my elbow. "I'm not gonna shrug this off and assume you know best."
"I… it's my body."
"Yeah, and this isourrelationship. I'm not gonna watch while you hurt yourself."
"So this is…" I suck a deep breath through my nose. Push the exhale through my mouth. I have to look at him. To face him. To face this.
There's no anger in his dark eyes. There's fear and frustration and affection, but there isn't a single hint of disappointment.
"Is this an ultimatum?" I ask.
"More like—" He cups my cheek with his palm. "I can't stand by and watch you hurt."
"So if I don't stop—"
"If you don't try—"
"That's it?"
"Yeah," he says.
"And, what, I need to decide by Monday?"
"Don't you want to stop?"
"Yeah, but…" It's mine.
"But what?"
"I…" I can't explain this. It's not that I don't want to stop. I do. I just don't know how to function without it.
"It's not supposed to be adversarial." He rubs my temple with his thumb. "We want the same thing."
I'm not sure about that.
